Moments in the Life of a Werewolf
by Faithful Magewhisper
Summary: Remus Lupin is known as the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher ... and as a werewolf. But the question is how did he get to be what he is today. This is his life from the moment he was bitten to the moment he died.
1. Dedication

_**Moments in the Life of a Werewolf**_

**Chapter 1: Dedication**

This is a story for my dear friend (even though she sometimes annoys the crap out of me). She always tries to get me to like other characters in the Harry Potter books.

Her favourite character by far in the series is Remus Lupin. Since her father left the family when she was still very young she was looking for a father figure to have in every-day-life. Remus provided her with such a figure. She dreamed about him, sought his scenes in the books and movies when she felt sad, made up conversations with him in her mind.

Since we started talking I was more and more involved, being asked questions about how he would react in a certain situation, or how his feelings would be. I came to understand him more through her and decided now to try my luck with him. I hope I get him right.

I dedicate this story to her and hope to show her sides she has not thought of before. This is Remus life from when he was bitten to his death.

So without further ado on with the story. (Enjoy Sarah!!!)


	2. Being Bitten

**Chapter 2: Being Bitten**

Remus ran through the streets of his home town. His friends and he were playing hide-and-seek. Timothy and Jonathan were his two best friends. He was sure they were hiding behind the casks near the baker. It was their usual hiding place.

He grinned and approached on tiptoes, ready to scare them a little bit. Suddenly he noticed a dark figure looming over the casks of flour. Immediately followed by the terrified screech of Tim. A jet of light, coming from one of the windows overhead, illuminated the contorted face of a huge dog, standing on its hind-legs. Remus screamed, too. He noticed the werewolf from stories his father had told him.

With his scream he had drawn the attention of the beast to him. But it just looked at him and reached down, grabbing Jon around the throat and lifting him up bodily. Jon tried to scream but couldn't get enough air through his windpipe. His legs kicked fruitlessly.

Remus was the oldest of the trio and he had promised Tim's and Jon's parents that he would take care of them. He grabbed the nearest object and hurled it at the werewolf. The small rock bunched off it without even leaving a scratch or hurting the beast in any noticeable way. The only effect it had was that the werewolf narrowed his eyes menacingly and threw Jon away. Slowly and deliberately it lowered itself onto all four of its legs.

Roaring its anger, the werewolf charged. Remus turned and ran but he was just a child with short legs. The werewolf overtook him easily. He felt the paws of the creature around his shoulders. Then he was lifted clean off his feet.

Jerking and screaming, Remus hoped that someone would hear him and come to his aide. His feet were kicking frantically and he managed to hit target in the werewolf's stomach. The paw-like hand around his throat pressed together painfully and Remus began to gasp for air, panicking even more now that he couldn't breathe. In his struggle for air and his fight against death his efforts to escape doubled. Blindly he kicked at every inch he could reach and even used his hands to punch and scratch. Finally he managed to kick the beast where it counted and he was dropped to the ground.

There he sat, gasping for air. He had to get away from the beast as long as it was in pain and licking its wounds. Struggling to his feet, Remus managed to make two steps before he was hit in the side and thrown to the ground again.

The werewolf circled him slowly, more weary of the boy it had perceived as an ease victim. Remus felt his heart in his throat. He was sure he would die tonight and the only thought creeping into his mind was that he thanked God that Tim and Jon at least were safe. And then the beast lunged forward.

The last thing he perceived was a huge gorge with rows of huge, yellowish teeth, ripping through his skin. Then darkness engulfed him.


	3. First transformation

**Chapter 3: First Transformation**

Remus locked his door and then slid the key under the door.

His mother picked it up and then let it drop into the pocket of her apron. Her hands were shaking and sobs tore from her chest. She couldn't stand the thought of her only child, her little son, transforming into a horrible beast. Studying books from the library, both from wizards and muggle authors, she had found out that these transformations were painful and leading to insanity. Every fibre of the victim's body would strain under the effects. Also, if unable to find human prey, the werewolf would start scratching and biting itself to relieve the compulsion to spread the disease by biting others and infecting them.

Robert Lupin tenderly wrapped his arms around his wife and turned her away from the door. Then he moved to heave a big wardrobe in front of the door. He hated to be afraid of his son but he also wanted to keep his wife safe. So he was torn between doing what was the best for all involved and doing what his heart wanted. For the first time in his life Robert didn't listen to his heart. With a final grunt of excursion, he managed to drag the heavy furniture in front of the door, efficiently trapping his only child in his room. A few days ago they had already put bars in front of his window, explaining to their neighbours that they were afraid of burglars.

Turning again around to his wife, Robert motioned for her to go downstairs and wait there for him. "Son, are you alright in there?" he asked, hating himself for what he had to do and not being able to shake his responsibilities towards his son off entirely.

"Yeah, dad, I'm fine ..." the muffled voice of his little boy sounded through the door, "... for now." The last part was so quiet that Robert had almost missed it. Now though his own eyes misted over with tears and he turned on his heels before he could break down in front of Remus' door, crying and asking God why this horrible disease had been given to his son.

----

Remus watched the night sky through the bars on his window and prayed silently but fervently that clouds would hide it and he would be spared his transformation. Irrational as it was Remus thought that one more month to prepare for that moment his body would change for the first time into that horrifying, strange, bloodthirsty creature would take the horror out of that experience.

Sighing deeply, he turned from the window, asking himself why he tortured himself like that. But inexplicably, as if drawn by a force stronger than him, Remus almost instantly turned back and resumed his blank stare at the night sky.

Storm clouds raced each other across the dark blue sky. Wryly Remus thought how fitting the weather was, portraying perfectly his inner turmoil. Fear and anxiety were replaced by a new and terrifying feeling, excitement. Some small part of him looked forward to the transformation, to hunting in the dark, to fasten its teeth into soft skin, to smell fear over the lovely odours of pines and grass, to be fearless and careless, to be free ... of all rules ... of his own stupid inhibitions ...

Remus forcefully shook his head to clear it. How could he think that? What was wrong with him for longing the moon to appear? Was he already turning into this horrible, instinct-reduced creature? Coldness gripped his heart and he wrapped his arms around himself, wishing for the arms of his mother, for her presence to chase away the demons, the night, the fear ... the moon ... this disease spreading through his veins ...

And then suddenly a particularly big cloud moved and the moon slowly appeared. Remus watched with wide, terrified eyes as slowly first a small sliver of it was revealed and then more and more quickly followed.

Remus tried mentally preparing himself for his transformation, but he could never have imagined it this painful. As the moon fell from its veil of clouds into the spot in the sky it would sit during the beginning of Remus' transformation, every bone in his body began to ache, and soon, snapped altogether. His neck was whipped violently to the side and his neck bone too cracked, enabling room for re-growth; for lengthening. His fingers became longer; more narrow, and his nails grew like thick, sharp pieces of metal. They cut against the edge of his soft skin in order to grow out from their original place behind his cuticle. His spine then began lengthening and he let out deafening screams as it protruded against his skin more and more every second, until finally he felt his skin give and start growing around his spine, creating a thin, greyish covering. It looked as though any moment, (if a bone was even the slightest bit sharp), it would rip through. After a few more moments his feet cracked also and his toe nails took up the same means of transformation as his fingers. He howled and scratched at his back with his long, sharp claws. His skin tore; the soft, thin layer of his spine torn. He screamed, one of the last humanly things he had to do, and then he again howled, because he no longer had a choice of screaming....That was what little boys did, and Remus was no longer a little boy. He fell to the ground as his feet arched and he pulled his knees tight against his bare chest. Hair began sprouting out from the skin that covered his body and soon, on the outside he was completely a beast. But, as Remus thought it could get no worse, his mind changed to wanting it to get worse. He wanted to be a full beast; a hunter. He wanted to hurt anything he could...To scratch....To bite....To kill. Then, suddenly, sharp fangs ripped from his gums and blood spewed out from his mouth. He howled again and bit deep into his hand to assuage the burning and stinging in his gum. After a few moments he pulled out his pearly white fangs and looked at the deep holes he had pierced in his skin. His ears drooped slightly and he panted...Dragging himself to his bed, he rested his elongated neck against the side, leaving bloodstains on his white and blue quilt. Then, he tilted his head sideways and caught view of an old mirror that had once been his mother's, resting in the corner. He took a good look at himself then, for he wasn't just looking at a monster....He was the monster.


End file.
